


Cult

by Rollyzen



Series: "Goretober" 2018- that isn't actually gore [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Cults, Hypnotism, Kidnapped Derek Hale, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Sacrifice Mention, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 19:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rollyzen/pseuds/Rollyzen
Summary: Day 4 of October: CultStiles is revered in his community for his affinity for magic. They worship the moon goddess Bendis, and Stiles has been put in charge of recovering the chosen sacrifice: Derek Hale.





	Cult

**Author's Note:**

> ugh. worked on this too long. it's late. i'm garbage.

It was tonight. The extraction job was tonight. Wrapped in layers of navy cloth and a face scarf, Stiles waited to be called upon. There would be no room for error or hesitation. The target had been selected by the head priestess months ago. Preparations were nearly done, and all they needed was their sacrifice. It had to be a strong male, a natural born son of the moon. He had to be able to withstand great stress to his body and emerge whole. All this was found in a member of the Hale line. As a high ranking werewolf pack of the United States, the Hales were a very desirable prospect to his people. That was how Derek Hale had caught the eye of Bendis worshipers.

"Stiles, let's go."

The voice of one of his family members spoke through the curtain of his room. It was time to get a job done.

* * *

 

Beacon Hills was a quaint town. To Stiles, the thrum of eclectic magic said otherwise. It was quiet in the town while they drove through it. The dead of the night was usually that way in most of his experiences. The black van they were in rattled faintly and settled in Stiles' ears. He always sat in the back when he left the camp so nobody would see him. The drawbacks of staying in the back were, obviously, the lack of seats and sparseness of light. These negatives were highlighted in the dark of the night as he was slung around in the back. The van stopped with a jolt and threw him forward into the metal net.

"Be _careful_ , Greenberg. _Fuck_."

Stiles rolled his shoulder irritably. Greenberg apologized fervently under his breath as he got out of the van and opened up the back. Silently, he hopped out of the back.

"I should be back within an hour. Park the van in those trees over there so you won't be seen. Keep the back open. You remember the code phase?"

At his nod, Stiles took off into the woods. The closer he came to the Hale house, the more it was littered with traps for trespassers. _Rightfully so_ , Stiles thought as he disabled another one, this one set to glue him to the ground like a fly trap. The house was enticingly normal up close, like looking into a snow globe. All the lights were out as he stalked into the house. Beforehand, he'd set up sonars to release a frequency relaxing to werewolf ears to help deepen their sleep. Disabling their _actual_ security system took some time. After ten minutes of careful judgement, he stepped into the house. A familiar cool calm seeped into him as he scanned the living area. Empty.

He padded up the stairs, sans any usual squeaks, and peered at the doors on either side of the stairs. The first one he opened revealed a grown woman snoring loudly with a fan blasting across the room. The next door he opened made his eyes narrow. Sprawled on the bed lay Derek Hale. His unclothed chest rose and fell evenly. Pressing a hand to his head scarf to make sure it's secure, he reached a hand into one of his many pouches and pulled out a pinch of purple powder. Stiles crossed the room and crouched down beside the bed. Immediately after Derek exhaled, he blew a puff of the powder into his face. After repeating this a few times, Stiles gently shook him awake.

He whispered, "Derek, get up. I need you to come with me."

The werewolf's eyes blinked open, glowing a slight blue. Stiles pulled him up slowly so as not to alert him. This had to be done slowly or he'd run the risk of ruining the entire atmosphere. Getting _Derek_ to be quiet was harder than he thought. The stairs were a big part of the problem. He kept bumping into the wall, and Stiles had to gently, but _firmly_ , fix him in the right direction. The aconite powder, while administered during sleep, had helped Stiles put him into a meditative or hypnotized state. But the line that stood between a successful manipulation and breaking one was very thin. The smallest thing could trigger the subject out of the psychological ensnarement and ruin the built up momentum. The important part of getting Derek to the van was keeping his mind occupied. Stiles was keeping a soft running commentary throughout the entire walk back through the woods. After he got a certain distance away, the sonars would disconnect and stop the soothing frequency.

They came up on the van eventually, but Stiles didn't dare breathe a sigh of relief yet. It was a good thing, too.

Greenberg, upon sighting them, jumped out of the vehicle and slammed his door. _Slammed_ his door. Not only did it make Stiles jump, it also ruined everything. Derek inhaled sharply and attacked. Stiles was mildly prepared for Greenberg to fuck everything up, but having a pair of werewolf claws slice into his skin still hurt.

"Get in the _van_ , G." Stiles huffed out as he dodged another swipe.

" **Who are you?** "

Stiles, mesmerized by Derek's beta shift, doesn't reply. Instead, he ducks around and jumps onto Derek's back. His claws rip up his legs. Stiles grits his teeth and grunts. From his chest pocket he pulls out a specially crafted strip of leather and ties it tightly while Derek thrashes. Once Stiles lets go of the band, he drops like a stone. They both crash to the ground.

Stiles plucks a leaf from his mouth, "Greenberg, I freaking hate you."

* * *

 

Their arrival back home was met with joy and congratulations. A party would be thrown the next day, but Stiles turned down the invitation. After socking Greenberg in the face, Stiles focused solely on moving Derek into his own room. The leather strip wasn't made to use for long periods of time. It was strong enough for its effects to be immediate and strong. Longer use would cause permanent damage or death. Stiles hurriedly tried to transfer Derek out of the van and into the sacrificial suite. A priestess finally decided to help him, throwing a limp arm around her shoulder. Once in the room, she helped set him down and silently handed him a key before leaving.

The restraints were firmly in place when Stiles cut the leather off. In an immediate reaction, Derek jerked and yanked against the restraints. Stiles felt a flutter in his chest at the sight of the pointed teeth set in a snarl. He marveled at Bendis' blessing, restraining the urge to reach out and touch. The blazing blue eyes, protruding brow, and sharp teeth all directed at him made his face flush.

"Where am I?" Derek lisped around his teeth.

Unsure whether he should talk, Stiles continued to look at him. One of his slim fingers slowly slid over the curve of his abs. A roar startled Stiles off the bed. Derek's back curved into himself, and he strained against his bindings to bite at Stiles.

" **Answer me. Who are you, and _where_ am I?** "

Stiles crossed his legs on the floor,"Sorry for touching you."

The werewolf growled, and he continued,"I'm Stiles. You're at The Bendis Oasis. I captured you to be our sacrifice."

His eyes seemed to bug out of his head,"Excuse me? _Sacrifice?_ "

Stiles smiled,"Yeah. You were chosen to be given to our goddess. It's an honor very few have received. I've been gifted with the responsibility of retrieving and tending to you. Can I get you anything?"

Derek gaped at him, exasperated.

"You could _get me out?_ Maybe _not_ sacrifice me?"

He frowned, "Why would I do that? You've been chosen for a grand opportunity. Bendis will hold your life in her hands. You'll be able to _feel_ her."

"And _die_."

Stiles shrugged. They continued the back and forth well into the morning. At noon the next day, the head priestess dismissed him to cleanse himself in the communal bath. He returned two hours later with dressed wounds and a spiritually cleansed body. Derek was sitting up in the bed looking tired and grumpy when Stiles unlocked the door. There were flowers in his hair and oils covering his body. He narrowed his eyes at Stiles when he entered.

"And who are _you?_ "

He tilted his head and scrunched his brows. Upon Derek's unfaltering blank stare, he remembered. He'd been wrapped head to toe in cloth for the entirety of their meeting.

"Stiles."

He turned around to face the door. An unmemorable member of the congregation stood meekly outside the room, not making eye contact.

"Yes?" He acknowledged the girl.

"I've been told to inform you that you can stay with the sacrifice for the night if you still wish to abstain from the celebration. The ritual will commence in two days time and you may rest as you need."

After that, she inclined her head and left. Derek eyed him with new wariness, but Stiles just smiled.

"Hope you don't mind company."


End file.
